


Dear Doctor Crane

by koalaboy



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Ed is trans, Gen, M/M, Tw for transphobia and talk of injections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 07:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13735620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalaboy/pseuds/koalaboy
Summary: The Joker needs someone to make a stronger version of Joker Toxin for him - and he knows just the man for the job.





	Dear Doctor Crane

Jonathan had locked the door to his laboratory as of late and seemed more frantic, less focused. Eddie put it down to Jon's own oddities and thought nothing more of it until the day came when there was a knock at the door. Now, for the pair to receive such a knock, they would have had to have friends, which they did not, and Selina preferred to slip in through the windows. Eddie grabs his cane from the hat rack near the front door and unlocks it. Before he can open it himself, the door swings wide open with a force that knocks him stumbling backwards. He can barely recover, blinking his eyes in to focus. The tip of his hooked cane is held up defensively, but the pressure of cold, round metal between his eyes causes him to lower it slowly. He looks up to meet his assailant in the eyes and recognises the bright green madness immediately.

"Uh, uh, uh," comes a sing-song voice, "Down, Eddie."

Ed swallows, reluctant to let go of his cane.

"I said _ **down**_ ," calls the Joker, smacking the barrel of the gun across Ed's cheek.

Ed cries out and drops his cane. He can feel warm blood trickle down his lips and he snarls. The loud, maddening giggles of the other send chills down his spine.

"I wouldn't even think about using your gas on me, Doctor Crane! I have one slippery trigger finger! I'd hate to see what I'm like when the ol' ticker gets a-racin'!"

Jonathan emerges from the shadows, glaring out from atop the gas mask that was strapped to the bottom half of his face.

"Doctor Crane, you've been a naughty boy," explains the Joker, waltzing lazily across their living room floor. The gun waves wildly in his hand, but Eddie knew he could shoot him in a split second should his mood change.

"The formula, it- it takes time. There's testing that needs to be done and acquiring human subjects is--"

"Is what you do best!" Cries the Joker, now mere inches from Jonathan's face. His breath was putrid and his yellowing, acid decayed teeth made him sick.

"I've only managed to test on a select sample of people so far. The results have been positive, but--"

"If the results are positive why haven't you given me the toxin?!" Joker was growing angry, his finger squeezes ever so slightly on the trigger of the gun.

Jon's eyes dart from Edward to the man in front of him. His mouth is dry and he licks his lips nervously, "There's so many variables that need to be taken in to--hgh."

Jonathan croaks as thin, white fingers crush his throat. Deceptively strong and accompanied with a ferocity that neither Jonathan nor Eddie could match. Still, if Ed could just get to his cane.

"Stay where you are, ladyboy," Joker calls over his shoulder, anticipating Edward's next move.

Ed's hands curl in to fists at his sides, a low growl escaping his throat.

"Take me to the lab, Doctor Crane. Your girlfriend can come too." Joker gestures with the gun for Ed to move and he stubbornly complies.

Jon leads the trio down the hallway in to a room that had been severely modified for his own use in to a fully functional laboratory. He unlocks the door and takes a vial of potent-looking green liquid out of the refrigerator.

"This is the concentrate," he says, handing it to Joker, who pockets it immediately, "I weaponised it in to small gas bombs."

He hands those over too, but the Joker twirls them around in the palm of his hand with his wiry fingers. He lowers the gun, shoving it in the front of his trousers.

"Well, this has been fun, Doctor Crane, but I must skedaddle. I do hope they find the bodies before they start to smell."

It was like time slows down as the Joker heaves the small gas bombs on to the floor of the laboratory and thick, green smoke fills the room. He waves goodbye to them and closes the door behind himself. He places a chair in front of the door to ensure they can't escape and staggers out of the apartment, his gleeful, lilting laughter echoing down the hall.

"Fuck, fuck!" Ed cries, his lungs burning as he tries to keep himself from breathing in. He throws himself at the door and it takes the breath out of him. He's helpless but to inhale. His eyes water, his throat burns, and his mouth curls up in to a paralysed, unnatural smile as the first few giggles roll out of his lips.

Jonathan fumbles with one hand around in his drawer of syringes, the other holds the gas mask on to his face. He can feel gaps where the mask doesn't quite touch his skin and gas leaks in, but ignores it. He inhales deeply through his nose and tosses the mask away. Working with two hands he manages to draw up 10 millilitres of anti-toxin he'd prepared for just this occasion and injects it in to himself. He ignores sterile protocol and draws up the same amount for Ed. He had no time to change the needle.

"Stay still, Eddie," he grunts, fighting with the twitching, laughing man on the floor as he fights his own laughter to push the chemical in to Ed's system.

In a final act, he throws himself at the switch for the emergency evacuation fan. His body slumps as the fan whirrs in to life, he reaches weakly out for Ed, and then it all goes black.

  
He wakes with the biggest headache he's ever had and blurry vision. The corners of his lips are numb, but not curled up in to a smile anymore, and the gas has cleared.

"Ed," he calls, dragging himself across the tiled floor to the other man.

Ed groans, blinking up at Jon, "Are we dead?"

"No, Ed," he says softly.

"Damn," Ed grunts, sitting up, "I feel like throwing up."

"We very well might if it means getting the toxin out of our system."

Ed frowns in confusion and then hits Jon right in the cheekbone as hard as his weakened muscles can muster.

"Fuck you for not telling me you were working for him!"

"It's not like I had a choice!" Jon defends.

"You could have told me, we could have outsmarted him. Played him at his own game!"

Jon shakes his head, "You can't outsmart an unpredictable man, Ed."

Ed is far too tired and aching to hold a grudge and leans in to Jon.

"I want to shower and then sleep for eternity."

"Sounds like a plan," he agrees.


End file.
